


We're Both Fine

by Kimra



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: A little angst, Aromantic, Batfamily mention, Coming Out, Demiromantic, Gen, identity exploration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 18:10:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19405501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimra/pseuds/Kimra
Summary: Clark drops by to ask Bruce about the latest tabloids and learns a lot more than he expected to.





	We're Both Fine

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Clark says/thinks a few things that are ignorant and stupid. The word “fix” is used at one point. Conversely Bruce is vicious when he’s in a mood.

Clark knows better than anyone else not to trust the press. Ethics in these past few years have gone out the window, and those still cutting their teeth on integrity and public service have been shuffled into the corner while the news stories that make money get all the headlines. As such reading another article on Bruce Wayne’s secret love life shouldn’t have him so curious but the fact is he  _ is  _ curious because this one’s been going on for nearly six months, which is a record.

Which is how he finds himself knocking on the big old oak doors, and being shuffled into a lounge room bigger than his apartment to wait. One of the kids stumbles in, big eyed, back straight, sets a tray of hot cocoa down and never takes his eyes off Clark as he walks backwards out of the room. The proof that he’s one of Bruce’s, aside from the clear knowledge of who Clark is, is that he doesn’t bump into a single thing on the way out. There’s a piece of paper next to the hot cocoa and a pen innocuously sitting on top of it. It’s not exactly subtle. Clark ignores it to be petty.

“What do I owe the pleasure?” Bruce steps in from a shadowed doorway and takes the single armchair next to Clark. There’s a laze to his posture that’s all Bruce Wayne. Batman would never let himself relax the way that Bruce does. Clark, like always, isn’t sure which is the pretence, and he resolutely tries not to find out.

“I read you’re getting married.” He starts, apropos of nothing. It’s important not to accidentally let Bruce think there’s an emergency, he wants to keep the man relaxed, even if it’s only for a while, even if it’s fake.

“Oh that.” Bruce laughs, and somewhere in the mansion there’s a crash. It’s not far away and Clark hears the chatter of fighting teenagers and defocuses on the commotion. Bruce pays it no mind. “I didn’t realise Meredith was that attached. I miscalculated.”

Clark doesn’t like the implications of that, and says so.

“I won’t devastate her Clark.” Bruce promises, as if that’s the concern.

“It still sounds calculating.” Clark warns, because apparently it needs to be stated.

Bruce gives him a careful look and unfolds forwards to pick up the cup of cocoa in the ‘#1 Worst Dad’ mug. He takes his time to lean himself back into the lounge, his hair is loose, a pair of slacks and a soft looking cashmere jumper. Clark likes seeing his friend so human once in a while, because even he needs the reminder that Batman isn’t all there is to Bruce.

“It is calculated,” Bruce says at last, “but she was warned from the start.”

“Warned?” Clark isn’t sure how you warn for using someone and it shows in his voice.

“Warned.” Bruce repeats, an edge to his own voice, like he’s rearing for a fight. Clark rolls his neck to break the building tension and makes a motion for Bruce to continue while he picks up the paper and signs it with his real name and adds ‘Daily Planet’ and a smiley face at the end then tucks it back onto the tray. He might do a flyby later to give the kid the signature he was hedging for, but there is such a thing as asking. Not everything has to be subterfuge no matter who his father is.

“How do you warn someone you aren’t going to- I don’t know, marry them?” Clark asks when Bruce adds nothing else.

Bruce looks bemused, like Clark is the idiot in the room. “It’s easy, Clark. I tell her I’m uninterested in anything romantic or long term and if she’s uncomfortable with that I won’t be offended and we’ll both go our separate ways.”

“You don’t,” Clark accuses, horrified.

Bruce doesn’t relent from his amusement. “I do,” he states. “Would you rather I’d lied? She’s an intelligent adult. I explained my situation, when she asked questions I answered them. Until this news came out I was sure she understood. But again,” he motions to Clark, “I miscalculated.”

Clark isn’t sure what to do with that. Isn’t sure at all how to tell Bruce how wrong that sounds because while it sounds wrong it also sounds reasonable. Clarks pretty sure though, it can’t be that simple and watching his friend talk about dating, romance, like it’s nothing puts a bitter flavour in his mouth.

“But what if-“ he tries, and flounders.

“What if?” Bruce prompts, he’s got his cocoa resting on one knee, leaning forward, engaging Clark. And Clark knows he’s prying but he needs to understand what’s going on.

“Don’t you think you’ve giving up before you even try?” he asks plaintively.

“I’m not exactly going to bring them home and show them all my hobbies,” Bruce points out reasonably, and Clark’s face scrunches up as he tries to think of a better explanation for the twisting in his gut, the discontent feel that Bruce is doing something wrong.

“You can’t be alone forever, Bruce,” he explains as if it needs explaining.

“Ah.” Bruce smiles, it’s… kind. Clark doesn’t know what to do with that smile, especially not from Bruce. “This is about Lois,” he explains to Clark and Clark reels back in surprise.

“This is about you,” Clark counters sharply, but there’s a snip snap in his head that makes him remember that Bruce is very often right.

Bruce takes another sip of his cocoa still looking soft and sympathetic like he knows what’s about to happen. Clark braces himself and Bruce says, “Not everyone has a Lois, Clark.” It’s so very simple and it should not panic Clark the way it does. He wants to crush Bruce in a hug. Wants to tell him it will be okay. He wants to shake him out of whatever this is. Wants to do- something rash. And he thinks, right now, Bruce might even let him do it. Any of it. Which is terrifying so instead he steps away from the little lounge configuration towards the looming windows across the room. He breathes purposefully, looking out at the expansive yards, cold and empty and so much like Bruce that Clark feels the sympathy tighten in his chest fiercely.

“But you could,” Clark insists turning back to face his friend. “You can’t let this life you’ve chosen stop you from having a chance at forever. You could-”

“Clark,” Bruce interrupts leaning forward, elbows on his knees, and says with absolute certainty: “Not everyone wants a Lois.”

Clark feels like he’s been punched, a punch that knocks his breath out of his body and sends him three city blocks west of where he needs to be. He breaks eye contact, half turns to the window and stop himself. He knows with a bone deep certainly that he has to fix this. That his friend need’s help. “You don’t mean that.” He promises as he turns back and goes to move forwards. Bruce’s flat look stops him from approaching and because his friend looks dangerous and that means he’s miscalculated.

“I have my children,” Bruce explains clearly, “I have Alfred,” and then adds, “I even have you, when you’re not being an idiot.” He smiles a little off centre and it’s clear he doesn’t think right now is one of those times. “I’m not losing out on anything I want.”

“So you’ll just- keep dating women when you don’t want anything from them?” Clark snaps, because if he doesn’t want anything from them there’s no point.

“I wouldn’t say I don’t want anything from them,” Bruce drawls and Clark sets his jaw because he knows the man is trying to fluster him and he will not be deterred.

“Be serious,” Clark orders.

“When am I not?” Bruce asks right back whip fast and he looks calm, leaning forwards and watching Clark, but his eyes are sharp and he’s just as ready to fight now as he is when he’s out on duty. Clark knows he has to tread carefully. “I need to have a pretence of a social and romantic life to keep the vultures from digging too far into what I do.” He explains clinically, “I also personally enjoy sex on occasions. Dating is just a means to that end and as long as my partner is informed and willing I don’t see a problem with my choices.”

“Dating shouldn’t be a means to an end.” Clark explains plaintively.

“Shouldn’t it?” Bruce leans back and Clark watches the tension roll of his shoulders. He is aware, right then, that he has not stepped carefully enough. “How is what I do any different from what you did before Lois?”

Clark blinks in surprise, “I’ve never lied to my partners,” he argues and Bruce raises an eyebrow, the picture of casual ease.

“But you didn’t love them,” he says.

“I loved them,” Clark grits out. “Of course I did.”

Bruce stares him down, challenging him and Clark can see the doubt in the man’s expression, “The way you love Lois?” Bruce asks.

“No. Of course not.” Clark huffs, the comparison is like night and day.

“Why not?”

“Because Lois is- everything.” He pushes his hair back off his face thinking about her, about everything she’s brought to his life. “There is no-one like Lois- Bruce this is stupid.” He shakes his head smiling at the thought of her.

“Does she make your heart race? Does it make you happy just seeing her?” Bruce asks.

“Of course.” Clark can’t believe Bruce even has to ask.

And then Bruce asks, “Did they?” and it hadn’t felt like a trap but it is. The moment Clark goes to reply he knows because they didn’t, not like Lois does, because Lois is more than that. Because she made his world brighter and better. But he knows, intrinsically that he’s supposed to say yes. Something tightens in his chest and the panic from before is about something else entirely.

“Did you ever consider,” Bruce unfolds from the lounge, “that you didn’t love any of them at all? Not romantically?” He continues ruthlessly. “That Lois is the only person you’ve ever actually been in love with?”

Clark makes a noise of disagreement, but he’s wrong footed and Bruce pushes his advantage.

“You cared for them, it’s you, of course you did. But you never thought you’d die for them the way you do her.” Bruce’s face is dark as he advances, “You never thought you’d die without them. Or stayed up wondering what you’d do if they didn’t love you back. How you’d put your world back together if they shattered it-”

“Stop it,” Clark orders, and Bruce does. He’s moved in close, brought them within an arm’s reach of each other, but he stops still and waits.

Clark tries to think through the pounding of his pulse. Did he love them? He remembers dating, and it was okay, he enjoyed his time with every woman he ever dated. But it didn’t really mean anything until there had been Lois. How there’s always been something awkward about it, like they were putting more into than he was, and he’d always called it quits before things got too far. How it had left him feeling lonely some days. And he remembers how he’d felt something light up and change in him when he’d met Lois. How she’d made it worth every failed attempt to find that connection just by smiling at him. How she’d made his stomach tie in knots and his hands feel too big in a way no-one else ever had.

He tried to think, tried to see if Bruce was right, but he didn’t know. Either he loved her more than anyone else was capable of love, or the love he’d had for everyone before her wasn’t…  _ love _ .

“I need to go,” Clark decided aloud. His entire body taut and fragile.

“Listen to me.” Bruce said, but his voice had lost the angry edge, the dangerous tone. Now he looked a little white, a little concerned. “I shouldn’t have-“

“I think I should go.” Clark repeated.

“No. Stop.” Bruce caught his arm, and Clark could break the hold, of course, but he stared at Bruce’s hand blankly. Bruce squeezed his arm and Clark looked up to meet his eyes. “I shouldn’t have said that,” he apologised.

“I think, I shouldn’t have said some things either,” Clark tried cautiously even if he still wasn't sure what it was. Bruce did something unusual then, he tugged Clark into his sphere and circled him in a hug. Clark held very still for one second, and then collapsed into it, arms wrapping around the other man. He was surprised a moment later when he realised he was there were tears leaking out of his eyes and getting lost in Bruce’s shoulder and the realisation made him cry harder.

When his shoulders stopped shaking Bruce kept holding on.

“I need you to stay for dinner,” Bruce told him, and Clark nodded. “Tim’s cooking for school and you’re the only one who won’t die if he’s messed it up again.”

“What?” Clark broke the hug sharply.

“And you are uniquely qualified to put out the spot fires,” Bruce said with a straight face.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Clark pinched the bridge of his nose.

“He won’t learn if he doesn’t fail,” Bruce says with all the innocence of a saint.

“We’re going down there and we’re going to make sure your children aren’t burning the house down, then teaching them fire safety. Which I suspect you’ve completely neglected until now.”

Bruce shrugs unconcerned which Clark knows means all his children know exactly where the fire extinguisher is and how to use it but Bruce wants to pretend he didn’t give them all that lecture the first time they walked into his kitchen. It settles something in him, something that tells him things will be fine, no matter what happens and what has happened, that everything will be fine.

“Thank you,” he tells his friend as he pulls completely away from Bruce and Bruce nods.

“It’s fine, Clark,” he promises. “We’re both fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Double psych! You thought just Batman was aro. But actually they both are! (Clark just has a big dose of demi in the form of Lois Lane.)


End file.
